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Oh, obsessions. I have again neglected my triple fixations for far too long. There's just too many things to devour in OCD brain loops -- those circular thoughts that stop me from writing and just swirl around my grey matter with... gut feelings. With that (and with another deadline looming) here are... three obsessions:

1. Rage in Heaven (W.S. Van Dyke) 1941

I saw this for the first time last year and excitedly wrote about this underseen curiosty. I watched it again last night while taking a break from my piece on The Master (procrastination) and it was even more interesting the second time around -- thank you Robert Montgomery. I’ve always admired Montgomery, particularly for his merits as an actor/director with Ride the Pink Horse and The Lady in the Lake, and I think he’s taken for granted as an intriguing screen presence. I became slightly obsessed with him in 2011, reveling in so many performances in which he played someone charming and light, deceptively sweet or… slightly… off. He’s so easygoing and natural on screen -- his lines never feel forced and though a smart-alec, he’s rarely smug -- he always wins me over with a laugh or an unexpected moment. Like in, Forsaking All Others, swiping his finger on Joan Crawford’s face mask and licking it off like frosting (back when you could do that to Joan). He’s naturally funny. And naturally strange. And he can really play a whacked out nutjob quite convincingly. There’s his famous psychopath in Night Must Fall, of course, but then there’s his weirded out, distracted performance in the problematic production, Rage in Heaven, a movie that, to me, works, regardless of any on-set issues. Reportedly, Montgomery didn’t want to make the movie, he wanted a break or vacation from his MGM contract but was forced into the role. In retaliation he delivered his lines as flat as possible within this super melodramatic milieu.

Well, his angry decision worked, and he’s just so strange that we utterly believe this millionaire is a suicidal madman, one step away from the loony bin he left at the beginning of the movie. We certainly understand why he falls for Ingrid Bergman, who marries him, in spite of the growing triangle involving his best friend (the normal one here -- George Sanders, when George Sanders was allowed to be the normal one). And we certainly understand his jealousy; even if his neurosis becomes so insane he sets up poor Sanders, Leave Her To Heaven style. There’s a lot going on here, and a lot of it might seem a mess to viewers, but it’s a fascinating clash -- and Montgomery gives good crazy, even when he’s phoning it in, which then makes him appear even crazier. He might be a genius.

2. I Saw What You Did! (1965) William Castle

One of my favorite William Castle movies (and I love a lot of them- see: "Jacket, Straight"), this one takes the perfect concept of grounded teenage girls babysitting a little sister, their innocent though, dirty-flirty prank phone calls, a murderous John Ireland, a vengeful Joan Crawford and a hilarious night time car ride to meet a sexy mysterious stranger. Well, this is before Facebook and Twitter and Instant Messaging and all that business, so the jailbait girls can only think Ireland (no slouch in the looks department, mind you, but a bit old for them) is the hottest thing since Elvis. These girls are just dying for some thrills and jump into their parent's car (kid sis in tow) so the more daring of the two can meet up with this manly man for a little action. And who can blame her? Never mind hunky voiced Ireland really thinks they "saw what you did" and "know who you are" -- the menacing setup makes it all the more subversively sexy. And then it gets really frightening. A jealous Joan Crawford spies the teens, reaches into their car and steals the girl's parent's car insurance -- perhaps the scariest moment in the entire movie. Being busted by Joan fucking Crawford when you're grounded? Jesus Christ. That would make any teenager wake up in a cold, virginal sweat.

3. Devo Live in 1977. Gut Feeling/Slap Your Mammy Down

This is one of the greatest YouTube finds of my week of one of Devo's greatest songs. I sometimes listen to just the instrumental "Gut Feeling" portion of this tune over and over and over again, waiting for it to make my heart explode -- or brain -- or something. I'm not sure. It's so mysterious and beautiful. The build! My God. Here it is live in 1977, shot on what looks like some kind of super magical Tyco toy video camera. They're reportedly performing at Max's Kansas City but they appear to have been transmitted from a low-fi dream with a hi-fi soundtrack. Slap your Mammy down indeed spuds.

One of the many highlights (very high) of Telluride -- the gondola. The second trip down is seven minutes long. Here's five of them. I loved riding these alone, as I am here. I miss those peaceful glass sky cabins.

"I am a product of violence myself. By the age of 15 I'd been through Auschwitz and Belsen and my family destroyed... Without motivation, without warning. One's whole life is literally changed by making oneself cope with violence. The force cannot destroy the sensitive... Tennessee Williams believes that violence destroys sensitivity but I don't believe this -- we go on, the life force goes on in spite of it." - Jack Garfein

I'm honored to be presenting the work of Jack Garfein at this year's Telluride Film Festival. He's a master. A master with only two feature films. But he's accomplished so much more in the world of theater, film and life. Garfein has so many stories. Sweet, brilliant, moving funny and empathetic, it will be wonderful to interview him on stage. The man is a force.

Garfein is a ﬁlmmaker so ahead of his time that, even after 50 years, his two features The Strange One (1957) and Something Wild (1961) continue to inspire, shock, provoke empathy and amaze. You can’t believe these complicated, human stories remain so modern and experimental to this day. But this is Garfein – an artist who beautifully combines expressionistic lyricism with raw naturalism while exploring still controversial subjects; never preaching, simplifying or insulting his characters: The fascistic military dehumanization and homoeroticism of The Strange One, and the complexity of rape and entrapment in his masterpiece, Something Wild.

Garfein, born July 2, 1930 in Czechoslovakia came to the U.S. after surviving Auschwitz, joined the Actor’s Studio, directed, in his early twenties, “End as Man” with Ben Gazzara and founded the Actors Studio West. His accomplishments are too vast to list, but he remains one of the great acting teachers, and continues to instruct in Paris. He’s chronicled his return to Auschwitz with his documentary The Journey Back, and has written “Life and Acting - Techniques for the Actor.” He remains a power in the world of acting and film.

On Saturday (today), I'll be presenting a picture I programmed for Turner Classic movies a few years ago and have written about here -- the extraordinary Something Wild. Garfein’s brave, emphatic, confounding, mysterious and in the end, darkly beautiful Something Wild is a picture so powerful, that it shocks and distresses viewers to this day. This expressionistic and naturalistic work of art (the location shooting is remarkable) dared observe the complexity of rape by following a young woman (a brilliant Carroll Baker, Garfein’s then wife) after she is viciously attacked by a stranger in the park.

The psychologically chaotic aftermath – her anxiety, repulsion, depression and eventual withdrawal from society -- not, and then by her own choice – is given a potent punch with the arrival of a tremendous Ralph Meeker in a performance you’ve never seen before. Not one to oversimplify (as rape never should be), this story of victimization turns into a twisted Stockholm syndrome/true love (or not, which makes it even more intriguing) fairy tale that still provokes argument. With a score by the virtuoso Aaron Copland, title sequence by legendary Saul Bass and cinematographer by the remarkable Eugen Schüfftan, Something Wild is an un-sung masterpiece.

On Sunday I'll be presenting The Strange One, which is strange and not so strange when considering the extent of human sadism. But the film remains shocking and potently violent -- both physically and emotionally. Adapted from Calder Willingham’s novel and play End as a Man (directed on stage by Garfein), The Strange One looks at a sadistic, little Hitler of a sociopathic cadet Jocko De Paris (a remarkable Ben Gazzara) as he terrorizes and manipulates underlings in a Southern military academy. Garfein’s picture boldly took on the abuse of power in such a system and the fearful acceptance of abuse -- sick abuse that goes well beyond boyish hazing.

It also dared to delve into undercurrents to overt moments of homosexuality. Along with Gazzara in his ﬁlm debut, the cast includes George Peppard, Pat Hingle, Geoffrey Horne, James Olson, Larry Gates and Arthur Storch. It's a major first effort by a young director with a mighty new leading man in Gazzara. The synergy is obvious between these two young talented men and it's not just raw, though it's unafraid of raw emotion and almost feels natural born -- but it's more fine tuned, intelligent and observant. They were thinking but they were never over-thinking. Garfein believes in instinct and his movies and performances flow -- you're swept into worlds both shocking and recognizable.

Jack Garfein is a maverick -- a sensitive, perceptive maverick. Cinema needed him then (but stupidly resisted) and cinema needs him now. Once you've seen his work, it's impossible to forget.